


Your heart, still beating

by Links



Category: In a Heartbeat (Short Film)
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 15:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11694312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Links/pseuds/Links
Summary: "And then one day you fall in love.And your heart starts beating.You don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same."





	Your heart, still beating

**Author's Note:**

> I watched "In A heartbeat" yesterday and I simply couldn't resist.  
> If you haven't looked it up yet, WATCH IT.  
> It's amazing.

You’re fifteen and you’re in love.

It starts like every love story – you meet him, you hear his laugh, you see his handsome face and suddenly, your heart starts beating.

Not your everyday, won’t-stop-pulsing-until-you-die heart, mind you.

No, this one is special.

It’s the heart which keeps on reassuring you after you started realising how much more you like watching boys than girls.  

The one whispering to you in the dark of night, when you can’t find sleep, “It’s okay. You’re not a freak. It’s fine.”

The one which is always with you, even when you despair of yourself.

It’s the perfect friend in your head, the one you’ll never meet in real life since nobody seems to ever take an interest in you.

It’s fine. It’s okay, you repeat yourself. It will get better.

And then one day you fall in love.

And your heart starts beating.

You don’t know it yet, but nothing will ever be the same.

 

Love is painful.

Love is an alien which ruthlessly takes over your comfortable little world.

Suddenly, you find yourself not only living for yourself, but also for the other person, the one for which your heart started beating.

Your mind is plagued with questions – Where does he live? What makes him laugh? Does he have friends? Has he ever been in love?

And in your case, the most important one – Is he like me?

Sleep keeps on eluding you, but it’s not really important any more. You close your eyes and you see him. The one you can’t stop seeing even if you sometimes would want to.

You put your hand on your chest, just above your heart.

And you smile.

 

Love is amazing.

It makes you laugh and be happy for no reason.

Your parents, your sister, your friends, even the teachers at school notice it. They’re all looking at you with a puzzled smile on their lips and question marks in their eyes.

“You seem well, Sherwin…”

“Anything we should know?”

“Eurgh, don’t tell me you’re in love!”

You stammer a denial, cursing your flushed cheeks and your stupid, stupid heart which won’t stop beating, beating until it’s the only thing you can hear.

Your sister inquiringly peer at you and you fight the temptation to turn away, all the while thinking _it’s my secret, it’s mine, you have no right to steal it from me!_

She doesn’t say anything but that night, when you once more toss and turn in your bed, dreaming of him, you hear a slight scraping noise at your door.

You rub your eyes before switching on your lamp and looking down.

A thin book has been slipped in your room.

You get up and gently lift it up in your hands. _The Bell Jar_ by Sylvia Plath. When you start leafing through it, the book automatically opens to a page.

 

 _"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;_  
_I lift my lids and all is born again._  
_(I think I made you up inside my head.)_  
  
_The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,_  
_And arbitrary blackness gallops in:_  
_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead._  
  
_I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed_  
_And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane._  
_(I think I made you up inside my head.)”_

You close your eyes, but it doesn’t stop the tears from spilling over.

 

Love is frightening.

Everywhere you go, you notice the happy couples.

You wonder how you managed to ignore them until now.

They’re everywhere.

Happy couples, happy families.

Man with a woman, woman with a man.

Always the same thing.

And you wonder.

Wondering if you have been cursed from the start, an invisible wall keeping you apart from the others.

Wondering if one day, someone – _someone real_ – will hold your hand and smile at you.

Wondering if your heartbeat will ever find an echo in someone’s chest or if it will keep on beating forlornly until you die.

 

When you see him, walking in the street or in the school corridors between classes, you’re burning.

You’re burning with curiosity, with want, with need.

Your feelings are so strong you sometimes fear they might explode out of your mind, your body, flying high above your head and revealing every one of your secrets.

And then _he_ will know.

They will all know.

 

It happens suddenly at school.

You’re running late for your last class of the day, speeding along blindly, until you collide with an unexpected obstacle.

“Ooomph!”

“Hey, watch out!”

You stand rooted to the spot.

It’s him. Of course, it’s him.

You recognize his voice.

And when you look up, you find yourself completely mesmerized by his face so close to yours.

Your gaze meets his.

Time stands still.

It’s awful.

It’s exhilarating.

You should move, you should apologise, pretend nothing has ever happened.

But you can’t.

Heart beating, pounding, blood roaring in your ears, your cheeks flushing red.

“Hi”.

A single word escaping your lips. A single syllable encompassing your hope, your desire, your love.

His eyes widen.

He knows.

 

They know.

Your ears pick up the whispers, the noises, the “Oh!” “Look at this” “I didn’t know he…”

Something is hurting deep inside you.

Something vulnerable, something precious.

Something that you should never have left so exposed.

It’s too much, you’re hurting, your heart is breaking.

You’re running away.

 

You finally fall on your knees, out of breath, pain spreading under your ribs.

Your head is spinning, nausea roiling in your belly.

What have you done?

You’re giving yourself away and nothing will ever the same now.

At the idea of the looks, the rumours, the labels which will find their way to you, a whimper rise in your throat. Ashamed, you slap both hands on your mouth.

“Listen to your heart,” they say.

You’ve listened and for which result?

No happiness to be found in this, you think.

Nothing but grief and pain.

You close your eyes, willing yourself away from all this.

Wishing to be elsewhere – a place where there’s no heartache, no hasty judgment to be found.

 

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t even hear the footsteps until it’s too late.

You startle. You’re about to stand up – _run, run away!_ – when you hear “Hey”.

His voice.

His gaze.

His smile.

And finally, a hand held out to you.

“I don’t believe we have met. I’m Jonathan.”

You stare at him.

You want to say “Yeah, I know.”

Or “I’m Sherwin and I’m desperately in love with you.”

But you remain silent.

In a fit of bravery, you dare to stretch out your arm.

Touching his palm.

Warm, smooth skin, electricity sizzling in your whole body.

No words are exchanged but that’s not important.

Because you can easily read what he’s thinking on his face.

_You’re important._

_You matter._

_I want to get to know you._

You smile.

And your heart keeps on beating.


End file.
